At what cost …

A 06:00 post is never going to be good really is it.

Laying here staring at the ceiling, having spent all night fighting for the painkillers I am prescribed, at the time I should have them, to the response of but we are really busy tonight, you will have to wait. Compared with every other night which busy or not is the same.

Which leaves me (almost every evening) in agony waiting as I do as my bed time ritual of waiting and then crying and begging to be given already prescribed pain relief.

Eventually I get prescribed pain killers, which have been reduced. These are not touching pain at all and with every movement or worse – cough – it feels like everything is like all my wounds will bust open!

Eventually the nurse is persuaded to call the doctor to come and see me. I explain to him, he seems nice. Discusses with his seniors and then prescribes me a stronger one off version of what I have to get me through the night. This takes 6 hours.

To add to the whole unnecessary dance, and my painful wrything around ended with 2 tubes becoming detached and my bed getting a soaking.

Which means a change of sheets. Immobile and in pain, I am rolled from side to to side as this is the only way the HCA’s can do this with you on the bed.

So now I am dramatic. I keep reminding myself that years ago I would not have come this far and in moments like this I wonder if it’s worth it.

This must be a better day …

Update* We seem to be starting a good day! 🤞